Suo Ran didn't expect to see Cai Lang again so soon.
Yet fate—or the city's cruel sense of humor—seemed determined to keep placing him in Cai Lang's path.
The café was small, tucked between two aging buildings near the station. Warm light spilled through the glass windows, a sharp contrast to the cold, gray streets outside. Suo Ran had come here to calm his nerves, to think, to breathe. He chose a corner table, ordered tea, and told himself to forget the station.
He failed.
"You choose quiet places," a familiar voice said.
Suo Ran stiffened.
Cai Lang stood beside the table, coat still dark, presence still overwhelming. He looked completely out of place among the soft lights and gentle music—and yet, somehow, he belonged.
"You're following me," Suo Ran said flatly.
Cai Lang raised an eyebrow. "If I were following you, I wouldn't announce myself."
Suo Ran exhaled slowly. "Then why are you here?"
Cai Lang glanced around before sitting across from him, uninvited. "Because this is where you ran to."
"That's not an answer."
"It is," Cai Lang replied calmly. "Just not one you like."
Suo Ran clenched his jaw. He hated how composed Cai Lang always looked—like nothing in this city could truly touch him. "You shouldn't sit with me," he said. "People might notice."
Cai Lang leaned back, eyes unreadable. "Let them."
That single sentence sent a strange chill through Suo Ran.
A server approached, breaking the tension. Cai Lang ordered coffee without looking at the menu. When the server left, silence settled between them—heavy, charged, dangerous.
"You said the scroll was important," Suo Ran finally said. "Why?"
Cai Lang studied him for a long moment. "Because it doesn't belong to someone like you."
Suo Ran's grip tightened around his cup. "Then why am I still alive?"
Cai Lang smiled faintly. "Because you're not as simple as you pretend to be."
That unsettled him more than any threat could have.
"You talk like you know me," Suo Ran said.
"I know enough," Cai Lang replied. "You observe before you act. You don't panic easily. And you trust your instincts—even when they tell you to be afraid."
Suo Ran looked away. "You're wrong."
Cai Lang leaned forward slightly. "Then why didn't you run?"
The question lingered.
Suo Ran didn't answer.
The coffee arrived. Cai Lang stirred it slowly, the soft clink of the spoon echoing between them. "You're standing at the edge of something dangerous," he said quietly. "And whether you like it or not, others have noticed."
Suo Ran's chest tightened. "Are you warning me… or threatening me?"
Cai Lang met his gaze. "Does it matter?"
Yes, Suo Ran thought. It mattered more than it should.
"You could turn me in," Suo Ran said. "Take the scroll. End this."
Cai Lang's eyes darkened. "I could."
"But you won't."
"No."
"Why?"
Cai Lang paused. Then, almost reluctantly, he said, "Because I want to see what you'll do next."
That honesty scared Suo Ran.
Outside, rain began to fall, tapping softly against the windows. The café felt smaller, warmer, more intimate. Too intimate.
"You enjoy this," Suo Ran said. "Watching me struggle."
Cai Lang smirked. "I enjoy potential."
Suo Ran stood abruptly. "I'm leaving."
Cai Lang didn't stop him. He only said, "You'll see me again."
Suo Ran hesitated.
"I don't want to," he said.
Cai Lang's voice dropped, low and certain. "You will."
Suo Ran walked out into the rain, heart pounding, mind racing.
Behind him, Cai Lang watched through the glass, eyes sharp, expression unreadable.
The game had already begun.